


The Pyramid

by ashangel101010



Series: The Imperial Family [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Vader is so jealous, Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, Macaroons, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sate Pestage is Best Dad, The Red Guards are hopeless against Palpatines, Triclops is Rama Pestage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: At the age of six, Rama bakes some macaroons for his two favorite Sith Lords.





	The Pyramid

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in the Star Wars universe or anything in any universe; I just like writing stories in that universe.
> 
> I was inspired by Kids Baking Championship season two episode where the kids had to make macaroons and then find out they had to stack them; there was a lot of crying in that episode. Anyways, I wanted to write some more fluff with Rama and this time involving him making macaroons for his Sire and Vader because he believes they need something sweet in their life.

The Pyramid

*

            Rama loves cooking. He usually makes breakfast with his father in the mornings after training. Cooking gives him more personal time with his father since his Sire gets him for most of the day.

Which is natural since they are soulmates.

But tonight, his father is not here. The Empire needs him, or at least that’s what his father told him. His thin, pale lips curl into a knowing grin.

 _Tonight is date night._ He thinks as he sieves his dry ingredients. Then, he folds them into his fluffy egg whites. _They can’t fool me; I inherited their cunningness._

Now that his batter is ready, he pours his dark mixture into a piping bag. He pipes out his dark chocolate macaroons onto the silicone mats of his baking sheets. He is pleased to see no peaks or lumps in his macaroons. He slams his baking sheets twice to release any trapped air bubbles.

He then puts empty baking sheets on top of his macaroons and sticks them into the oven for twenty minutes.  

 _“Never be idle with your time, Rama.”_ His Sire once told him. So he works on the most challenging component of his macaroons: the filling.

He is making a blossom wine buttercream as his filling. He is supposed to make a syrup out of the wine and then let it cool overnight in the fridge.

He did not want to wait the night because Vader will be gone by tomorrow night. So he decides to use the Force to make the cool blossom wine syrup that he needs now.

 _“Cyrokinesis: A siphoning of essence that leeches the life intensity from another, leaving behind a frost-shrouded corpse.”_ He recalls the particular piece Darth Bane wrote in his section of _Book of Sith_ that his Sire is currently drafting.

Now, he’s certain that siphoning the Force from a blossom wine reduction is not the same thing as taking life from a living person, and it’s most certainly an inappropriate use of the Force.

 _“The Force resides in everything, Little Moth, even in the tiniest pebble.”_ Vader once told him. So, logically, the Force resides in the syrup. And he shall siphon it.

Midi-chlorian by midi-chlorian.

*

Sixteen times. He has failed sixteen times to cool the syrup. And with each failure, he had to remake his syrup.

 _Extremities are my issue. I always manage to turn it into solid ice or burnt sugar. And every time, I think I’ve siphon enough, it reverts to those extremities! And I don’t have enough wine to make another batch._ He sighs and thinks about what he’s doing wrong.

 _I’ve been going about this like how Sire or Vader would do this. Sire is dispassion, and the Force is cold with him. Vader is passion, and the Force is fire with him. How can I balance ice and fire? How can I prevent one from overtaking the other?_ He searches the Force for an answer. In the Force, he receives the answer. Hot and ice overtakes his mind for a second; he grits his slightly crooked teeth to muffle his screams.

 _Use both at once._ He concludes when he returns to his tiny body. And so he does, he bends fire and ice to his will like his Sire would and gets exactly what he wants.

“Finally!” He hisses with pleasure as the syrup is cool enough to finally use for his buttercream. His macaroons have finished cooling on the rack and are ready to be filled.

*

Rama did not have school today, so he gets to go to the palace with his father. He makes sure that not a single strand of his white hair escapes his maroon headscarves. Only ordinary children allow themselves to look less than perfect.

“You better not eat too many macaroons; sugar does Chaos on you.” Rama shudders when he recalls the morning after his hazelnut spread binge. He spent half the day clutching his stomach and feeling like he was disemboweled.

“Oh, they’re not for me, father.” He pets the silver cloche hiding his macaroons. His father smirks.

“Don’t give Kinman any, he’s been…naughty.” Rama purses his lips like his father foiled his plans. His father chuckles. He believes him.

“And don’t give any to the Crimson Guards on-duty, they’ll get in trouble if they cave into your charms.” _Again_. Rama smirks. Very few people can resist him.

“Okay.” He sighs with a smile stretching from cheek to cheek. His father shakes his head.

“You are incorrigible.” _I get it from Sire._ He thinks as he reaches his father’s office. His father bends over, and Rama plants a kiss on his cheek.

“See you later, father!” Rama dashes away to his Sire’s wing that also housed the library and the art gallery. He knows his father thinks he’ll be spending most of the day in those two places like usual.

But not today.

No, he runs past those two places and makes his way to the Emperor’s private turbolift where two Red Guards are guarding it. He smiles disarmingly at them.

The Red Guards let him access it.

He smirks as he enters the lift.

*

Darth Vader is meditating before the Sith Shrine with his Master. He always does this when he is planetside, which isn’t as often as he likes. He used to hate meditating; he would rather hunt down Jedi survivors or even read reports than meditate. Meditation demands him to be calm, and he could never be calm. Not like his Master.

But then Rama came into his life.

His Master’s sweet son who has no fear of him, who happily tugs at his cape for a ride on his shoulders. Rama inspires him to be calm because he never wants to hurt him in his rage, and Rama is particularly sensitive to emotions because he has yet to develop strong mental shields.

And Rama is also strong in the Force.

 _“Have no fear, Apprentince, the child will never be trained like you are. He’s too……kind.”_ His Master told him after his first encounter with Rama. Even then, he wanted to protect Rama. His Little Moth.

He feels Rama bounding towards them in the Force, even though his footfalls are as quiet as the fluttering of a moth’s wings. _His training with Pestage is paying off._ Vader hates to admit.

He loathes how the rat-faced Emissary gets the privilege of raising Rama.

“Rama, you have done well to cloak your footsteps, but you need to cloak your presence in the Force as well. You’re too _bright_.” His Master chides his son before rising. His Master has not told him to stop meditating.

“I shall endeavor to render myself _completely_ invisible in the future, Sire.” _He sounds so grown-up!_ Vader is not gushing.

“And you shall. I see that you’ve finally mastered your headscarves.” _Noooo! He’s cuter when his hair is wild and fluffy!_ Vader is not whining.

“I won’t look less than perfect.” _Oh no, does that mean I’ll never see his hair again!?_ Vader is still not whining.

“And I also see that you’ve brought a surprise.” _A surprise?_

“Yes, would you care to try, Sire?” _The surprise must be food then. I doubt Pestage is irresponsible enough to let Rama carry around wine._

“I shall.” He hears his Master pick up the surprise and then a tiny crunch like bird bones. He feels Rama’s anxiety swirling in the Force.

“Hmm…..bitter dark chocolate and sweet blossom wine….what an _excellent_ pairing.” Vader feels Rama’s anxiety transform into burning pride.

“I made them especially for you and Lord Vader.” _Oh poodoo!_ Vader is not hoping for mercy from his Master. Because there is no mercy for the Sith.

“Well,” He can hear his Master’s face cracking with a grin. “He should get up and try it.”

 _Kark!_ But Vader rises and turns to see Rama. Rama is dressed in red robes and holding a pyramid of macaroons.

Vader slowly reaches out for a macaroon, feeling as though he’s about to touch lava, and pulls a dark sweet from the top. He then stiffly brings it up to his mouthpiece.

He does not know what to do.

But he feels Rama’s anxiety once more swirling in the Force. Rama too wants to impress him.

He cannot let his Little Moth down, so he smashes the macaroon against his grill until it’s nothing but dust.

“Delicious.” Vader manages, feeling extremely awkward for doing that in front of his Master.

But Rama’s warm, loving smile is worth the humiliation.

He will always be worth it.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Comments- No links this time. 
> 
> I remember Darth_Videtur and I RP-ing about Rama and how Rama would be the most spoiled little secret prince in the Empire. And he is. Vader, at least before the Originals, and the Red Guards would do anything for Palpatine, which means of course they would be particularly susceptible to Rama’s charms. He’s a Palpatine in all but name. Even the Emperor allows himself to be charmed by his little spawn. At least in this AU. 
> 
> I believe my next work for this series will be about how Rama came into Sate’s care, or another fluff piece, or something to do with Maul.


End file.
